The Transition Room

Erin Peden

Getting out of our house is a task; a huge task. I know a lot of you can feel me when I say this: people who can put their shoes on and walk out the door like it’s nothing, and who don’t look up to the heavens above and thank them for the obstacle-free-transition-life they’re living, are taking it for granted.

Our son, who is now eight years old, really struggles with getting out the door. And it’s not like you can bribe him with ice cream to get him moving faster – the transition itself is his road block. Going from Point A to Point B is straight up daunting.

And I promise you, I do appreciate that he requires extra time to process all impending change – as simple and as routine as that change may appear. Realistically, however, not being able to leave the house without chaos, tears and unexpected behaviour is a hurdle that I am tired of tripping over. I’m not sure how many times in my life I’ve begged the universe to give us just one smooth exit from our home.

Last August I started to work outside of the house again. With school beginning in one short month from my start date, I knew I had to come up with a strategy to be able to get the kids out of the house to school, and myself to work, in a timely fashion.

We do nothing in a timely fashion.

What I came up with was an easy concept, and the freedom it has given me each morning – not to mention the stress it has alleviated from my son – has been worth every speck of space I had to surrender.

Because that’s what I did. I surrendered my home office. The one, beautiful, quiet space in my house I could consider my own was handed over to my son. (And it’s perhaps the only thing I can claim to have done right since I started this parenting gig.)